Debbie and Michael - What Happened Next
by i.imitate.art
Summary: When he left, Debbie was forced to confront her feelings. When he left, Michael was forced to live in doubt of his feelings. When he left, fate brought the two together. Please R and R!
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Note:**

This short story is about what happened after Billy left and went to the Royal Ballet school. It is set four years later, so Michael is 15 and Debbie is 14. I hope you enjoy it!

**What Happened Next - Debbie And Michael**

Debbie Wilkinson clambered onto the bus and plonked herself down on an empty seat. An old woman walked past, glancing at Debbie, and Debbie glared back. But when the woman had turn her back, Debbie pulled her coat further down over her tutu, embarrassed. There had once been days when she had been proud to let people see her in her ballet clothes. When she had gone home humming Mr. Braithwaite's merry songs. When she had rehearsed the new steps in her head, her feet tapping along sub-consciously. She didn't see the point of that anymore though. She didn't see the point of anything.

The bus doors opened with a hiss of steam and a boy stepped in. He was short, like Debbie, and his unruly hair curled around his face like a chocolate-brown halo. He looked around the bus, searching for an empty seat. The only one was next to Debbie. The boy noticed this, and his cheeks turned a bright shade of pink. He stood there, he eyes fixed on the empty seat, until the bus driver called out;

'C'mon, lad, we 'aven't got all day!'

The boy turned pinker, but did as he was told and sat down next to Debbie, on the far side of his seat so they wouldn't touch. _Wanker._

Debbie turned to the window angrily and searched through her old ballet satchel until she found a cherry lollipop. Her Mam had packed one for every day since her first ballet class. Now, she gazed longingly at the crimson gleam of it, before opening the window and tossing the lollipop out. She hadn't eaten a sweet in 4 years, not since _he_ left, and wasn't about to start now. Her body had shrunk from that of a plump little girl's, to a thin graceful woman's, the body of a real ballet dancer. And with it, had shrunk her happiness. She only wished _he _could see her now. He would be so impressed. Then again, maybe not.

The boy in seat next to Debbie glanced up at her, nervously, as if he was considering whether or not to leg it. Finally, Debbie could stand it no more.

'What is your bloody problem?!' she snapped at the boy. He jumped like Debbie had had slapped him.

'Nothing' he mumbled.

'Then why are you looking at me like you're a puppy that I just kicked in the 'ead?'

'No reason, it's just... You're familiar.'

'We don't know each other' said Debbie, turning back to the window.

'No, really, we do. At least, I'm sure I know you' the boy said frowning with concentration and frustration. Debbie glanced back at him. His eyes were the colour of the sea.

'I've heard that line before mate, a million times. You're wasting your time' Debbie insisted.

'I'm not chatting you up' the boy murmured, going pink again. 'I swear. I'm Michael.'

Debbie rolled her eyes and turned back to face him fully.

'Michael what?'

'Michael Caffrey'

Debbie frowned. The name _was _familiar.

'I'm Debbie. Debbie Wilkinson'

The boys face lit up with realization.

'Yeah! Mrs Wilkinson's daughter!'

'No shit, Sherlock.' sighed Debbie. She was beginning to feel dizzy. She hadn't eaten lunch or breakfast after all.

'I mean... the ballet teacher's daughter. Billy's teacher. Billy's old teacher anyway'

Debbie sat bolt upright. The dizziness was gone. Billy... Billy Elliot. Debbie hadn't spoken that name, hadn't even dared to think of that name in 4 long years.

'You know Billy, don't you? Knew him. Whatever' said Michael.

'I... I don't know who you're talking about. Billy? That's a boy's name! Mam never taught a _boy _to dance!' Debbie stammered, though her voice shook even as she said it.

'I miss him too...' sighed Michael, leaning back in his seat. When Debbie looked closer, she saw the tears in his eyes.

'He talked about you a lot, if that makes you feel better' Debbie said quietly. 'When he he was at ballet, I mean'

Michael said nothing, but she could tell that her words had pleased him. The tears left his beautiful eyes and a small, secret smile formed on his rosy lips. The two sat in silence for a few minutes, Debbie staring at Michael, Michael staring at the fan on the ceiling.

'You haven't, like, heard from 'im have you? Or seen 'im?' said Michael, not taking his gaze off the fan.

'Nah. You're more likely to than I am, you were his best mate after all. What was I to 'im? Nothing' Debbie muttered, her throat closing up.

'I don't think so.' Said Michael simply.

'What do you mean? What would you know anyway?' Debbie said, blinking away her tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks.

'I felt the same way you did. Still do, really. Felt that I was nothing to Billy. But then you realize that no one knew what they were to Billy. I don't. You don't. His Dad definitely doesn't. His brother doesn't either, but he pretends not to care...' Michael sounded like he was going to say more, but instead his words drifted off into some unknown corner of his mind.

'We ought to see him. Go down to the school, I mean. Find out how he is.'

Michael stared at Debbie, a new look about him.

'I didn't know... I mean, I never knew you cared about...'

'I don't. I mean, I was just thinking, since YOU miss so much, we could...' Debbie didn't finish. She didn't have to. Both of them were clearly thinking the same thing.

'Let's meet here, first thing tomorrow morning' said Michael, standing up. There was a gleam in his eye like Debbie had never seen before.

'You're on.'

Michael shot her one last deliriously happy look, before getting off the bus.

'But wait a second, Michael, what about-' the doors slammed shut behind Michael. '...Money'

Debbie stared after the retreating figure of the boy. There was a feeling in her stomach that she hadn't felt for years, back when she cared about things like ballet recitals and when her homework was due in. It was butterflies. Nerves. Excitement. All the things Normal Debbie couldn't and wouldn't stand. But New Debbie was absolutely loving it.


	2. Chapter 2

Debbie and Michael sat in a large, empty, gleaming glass waiting room.

'Thanks, again' whispered Michael, sheepishly. 'The money thing kind of slipped my mind...'

Debbie rolled her eyes.

'Don't worry about it. Mam's happy for us to go and see Billy. At least, I think she is. She said some weird stuff...'

'What kind of stuff?'

'She never said it outright but... I don't know'

'What?' said Michael staring in to Debbie dull brown eyes as if the world depended on it.

'She gave me the money for the journey and all that, then she started telling me this story... about her best friend from school, who'd gotten a gig in some West End ballet show or somethin'.'

'So?'

'Mam said she went down to see the show and went visit her friend in the dressin' rooms afterwards. But her mate didn't want to know. She'd gotten all hoity-toity and thought herself better than everyone else.'

'Your Mam's not trying to say that Billy...?' said Michael.

'I don't know. All I know is that the story was a load of bull. Her best friend from school was Hetty Green from down the road and the most performing _she's _done is the pub karaoke when she's totally pissed.'

'Billy wouldn't! Your Mam's talking rubbish' hissed Michael indignantly.

Debbie looked at him sideways.

'You don't have to convince me. I agree with you'

'Oh. Sorry. It's just that I can't bear when people talk shit about Billy. He was, _is _the best lad anyone could ever have for a... mate. Though, what do I know? I haven't seen 'im for years, he might be a total arse now.' Michael murmured, his voice cracking.

'He won't be' said Debbie reaching over and squeezing Michael's hand. Michael didn't squeeze back. In fact, he looked a little uncomfortable, but he smiled at Debbie all the same.

'Deborah Wilkinson and Michael Caffrey?' called out a bored-looking woman from the front desk.

Debbie snorted with suppressed laughter.

'Why is she calling us by name? We're the only ones in the bloody waiting room'

'Shhh!' hissed Michael going pink.

He jumped up and practically ran to the desk. _Bless, _thought Debbie, grinning. She got up and strolled over to the desk lazily. The lady frowned down at the two of them, disapprovingly.

'Well? Can I help you with something?' she snarled.

'Please, we're here to see Billy. Billy Elliot?' stammered Michael.

The woman looked blank.

'He's been at the school for four years and he...' Michael drifted off.

'I'll look him up in the system' said the woman, sighing as if this was an extreme effort. Debbie clenched her fists.

'Well, if this such a bloody chore for you-' Debbie shouted, before Michael jammed a hand over her mouth.

The woman raised her eyebrows but said nothing. Michael released Debbie, who glared at him. Michael may have been short, but he was still a good deal taller than Debbie. Debbie hadn't noticed it before. She also hadn't noticed how large his hands were. Or how strong he was.

'Elliot, Elliot, Elliot...' said the woman, frowning. 'What did you say his first name was?'

'Billy' said Michael reverently, as if he were saying 'God'.

'Ah, you mean William. Sweet boy' said the woman smiling. 'Why are you here? Is he expecting you?'

'Yes. Well, no... I mean...' Michael couldn't finish.

'We're his cousins' said Debbie triumphantly. 'He's not expecting us... until next week, that is, but we've had to come early and he wouldn't want to miss us.'

Michael stared at Debbie in awe, but the woman just frowned, unconvinced. Thank goodness she seemed to be getting bored with them.

'I highly doubt it, miss. But just this once I'll turn a blind eye. He's in dorm 41. That's on the 4th floor. Wait for him outside, his class will be over in 10 minutes.'

The two children hurried away, before she could change her mind, Michael making quiet thanks, Debbie sniffing.

By the time the two of them had found dorm 41, they could already hear the laughter and chatter of young boys running up the stairs. Michael grabbed Debbie's hand sub-consciously. He could feel his heart beating so hard he thought it might burst. Tears were filling his eyes and he was having to breath harder than usual. This was it. Billy was coming.


	3. Chapter 3

A boy ran up to Debbie and Michael, the last remains laughter from some unknown joke fading from his face. He was fair, like Billy, but it wasn't like Billy's dark golden-blonde. It was so blonde it was practically white and, again unlike Billy's unruly mane, it was slicked back with some sort of gel. His eyes were blue, but not like Billy's warm, welcoming turquoise. Instead, they were a cold baby blue, like ice.

The boy stared at them.

'Do you mind if I… um. Well, uh, sorry, but… this is… well, my dorm' stuttered the boy, shifting uncomfortably. He didn't sound unpleasant in the slightest. His voice was tinged with an posh, London accent.

'Sorry…' said Michael, going red again. 'We were looking for… Billy?'

Michael had thought for a second about saying 'William', but couldn't bring himself to do it. Billy was called BILLY. And he always would be.

'Ah' said the boy, his face clearing. 'That explains it. I'm his roommate.'

'Roommate' said Michael, swallowing hard.

'Yes. Name's Charlie. And you?' Charlie smiled at the two brightly.

'Debbie' said Debbie, sensing that Michael may be too overcome to answer. He was still holding her hand. 'And this is Michael.'

'Nice to meet you. How do you know Billy, then?'

'Friends. We've known him forever.' said Michael, meaningfully.

'And are you two, like…' Charlie gestured to Michael and Debbie's clasped hands.

'No!' Michael practically yelled, dropping Debbie's hand. Debbie's stomach dropped at the same time. She shook her head hard, by way of answering Charlie's question, but found that her eyes were stinging.

Charlie just looked amused. Michael saw his smirk and wanted to punch him in the throat.

'Well, you'd better come in and wait for Billy. He'll only be a few minutes.'

Charlie pushed between Debbie and Michael, opening the door behind them.

'Welcome to dorm 41.'

The room was small, but homely. On either side of the door was a mirror and a sink. Directly opposite the door was a large, open window, curtains gently swaying in the breeze. Charlie went over to the left side of the room, where a single bed stood, feet end facing the door. At the end of the bed of a wardrobe, pushed up against the wall. Charlie chucked his bag on the floor and sat down on the bed, turning on a lamp that sat on a bedside table under the window.

'Make yourselves at home' smiled Charlie.

Debbie sat silently down next to Charlie, still blinking.

'So,' she croaked, trying to make her throat feel less tight. 'How long have you been at the school then?'

As Charlie and Debbie talked, Michael turned to the right side of the room, which mirrored the left exactly. He walked slowly over to the bed, not daring to sit on it. He stroked the duvet, carefully, his eyes welling up. He stared at the pillow, which had a soft dent in it from where Billy had lain his head every night for four years. Michael had waited so long for this moment, but now that it had arrived, he wanted nothing more than to turn back and go home. He couldn't bear it if Billy had changed into some posh, blabbering fool, like Charlie. Charlie was nice enough, but he wasn't like Billy, not even close. Michael wanted the OLD Billy, not some new one. He wanted the kind, innocent dancing boy he had once known. He wanted to take the Billy he knew in his mind and hug him to himself, never letting go.

Michael turned to Debbie to propose that they left. That's when the door burst open.


	4. Chapter 4

The first thing that Billy saw was Debbie, but not as he remembered her. It was quite definitely Debbie, but a Debbie who wouldn't dream of sucking a sweet red lollipop. A Debbie who was slim and graceful, not chubby and awkward. A Debbie who's kind, innocent had dimmed, to show eyes that had seen far too much before their time.

She sat on Charlie's bed, these new eyes fixed on Billy. She didn't speak. She didn't move. She just stared. Billy sensed that she was waiting for him to do something, but what. For some inexplicable reason, he felt as if he was under pressure, like saying or doing the wrong thing would send Debbie running from the room, never to return.

'Wow... Debbie, I...' Billy trailed off, before running up to Debbie and throwing his arms round her. She leapt up off the bed to embrace him back.

'What are you doing here, Debbie?' said Billy.

'I've missed you' blurted out Debbie, before clapping her hands over her mouth. Billy grinned.

'I've missed you too. It's great to see you. You look so different.'

Debbie just looked at the floor, trying to hide her scowl. It wasn't meant to happen like this. Debbie was meant to be in control now. Billy was supposed to throw himself at her feet and beg her to be with him. He was supposed to fawn over her new and improved looks, not make her blurt out dumb things and feel awkward and embarrassed and well, like the OLD Debbie.

When Debbie finally looked back up at Billy, she saw that he was looking confused. She knew she had this one chance to turn things around.

'You never wrote' said Debbie half-smiling flirtatiously. 'Thought you might of forgotten me.'

'Nah' said Billy awkwardly. 'I would never. How's everyone? How are you?'

This wasn't the reaction Debbie wanted.

'Fine. And how are you? How's the ballet going, dancing boy?' Debbie giggled playfully.

Dancing boy... Billy stared at Debbie.

'Yeah, it's good. Um... Debbie... how's Michael?'

Debbie gave up, feeling tears rush back to her eyes again. It was over. Clearly, Billy would never look on her as anything, just as she had suspected. Why had she listened to Michael? Hope was futile. Second chances? Don't exist.

'Ask Michael yourself' said Debbie, her voice cracking. She sank back down onto the bed.

Billy's heart leapt as he turned around. Ask Michael yourself... that could only mean...

'Hi, Billy'

Billy saw Michael. He stood shyly, by himself next to Billy's bed, a small smile on his red lips. His eyes were brighter than Billy remembered. His frame was thinner.

Billy hugged Michael to him, never wanting to let go. Michael hugged Billy back and Billy could feel Michael gently shaking, and felt Michael's warm tears on his shoulder. Even now, Billy was taller and stronger than Michael and perhaps it was this that made Billy want to protect the other boy with his life. To pull him out of harm's way and never leave him again. But Billy knew this was impossible.

When Billy started to feel Charlie and Debbie's eyes boring into his back, he reluctantly let Michael go.

'Come on. I'll give you a tour.' said Billy, quietly, needing time alone with Michael.

Michael headed wordlessly to the door. Debbie stood up to follow.

'After you, _Michael._' said Billy, meaningfully. Charlie pulled Debbie back down next to him. It wasn't necessary. Debbie had already taken the hint.

Billy knew he would hurt her feelings, but he couldn't be bothered with that now. Michael was here. That was all that mattered.

The two boys walked silently to the ballet studio. Michael watched as Billy's toned, athletic body loped ahead of him, his graceful stride far longer than Michael's own. Billy took in Michael's thin face, wanting to etch the memory onto his mind, never to be forgotten again.

The ballet studio was large and echoing. Mirrors and bars lined the walls and an eery silence greeted the boys as they crossed the wooden floors.

A beautiful mosaic gleamed on the ceiling, but Michael had eyes for nothing but Billy. His old denim was gone, replaced by loose fitting gear with the schools logo on it. But, Billy was still the same Billy. His eyes a warm blue. His hair the colour of honey. His frame muscly and tanned. His smile bright and sunny. His whole being pulling Michael in.

'Billy... I've missed you. So much'

'I've missed you too, Michael.'

And Michael believed him.


	5. Chapter 5

Billy smiled at Michael, not knowing exactly how to fit 4 long years of longing, sadness, love and suppressed emotions into words. But he knew he had to try.

'Um, Michael. I just want to say... I'm sorry. Sorry for not writing to you. I should have. Even just as a best mate, not necessarily as a...'

Billy stopped, seeing Michael flinch at the words 'just as a best mate' and wanted to kick himself. He couldn't believe he was making such a muck up of something so important.

'Oh God, I'm so bad at this...' Billy stammered. Michael shook his head.

'Me too, Billy. I don't know how to explain... Well, I guess things are different now. Maybe there's no need to explain.'

Billy stared at Michael, feeling his limbs start to tremble, the way they always did when he really scared or nervous. Michael saw this, and he knew what the trembling meant. Michael knew most things about Billy.

'I'm sorry things have been this way, Billy. I don't mean to make you feel awkward or nervous round me, I just... I came to say I miss you. I miss... my best mate.' Michael swallowed down his feelings and gave Billy a slight smile.

Billy felt himself start to shake. He couldn't bear the formality between them. This wasn't the way he'd imagined things. Why was he such a coward? He knew why. He just wished he could explain it to Michael.

In seconds, the gap between the two slender boys was gone, as Billy pressed himself to Michael and lightly touched his lips to the smaller boy's. The tender kiss seemed more like a question than anything else, a warning. Something to say 'is this okay with you?'. Michael caressed Billy's face with his smooth hands, and Billy had the answer.

Their perfect, salty kisses lasted for several minutes before Billy finally pulled away and wiped Michael's eye to staunch the crystal tear that threatened to spill down his cheek.

'Come on.' whispered Billy.

'Where?' said Michael, sad that the beautiful kisses were over.

'Out. I want to take you around, show you London. I love exploring it and I've been wanting to do it with you for ages'

'Really?'

'Yeah'

'Okay, then, let's go'

But their romantic evening was spoiled when Charlie arrived at the front entrance next to them, announcing that he'd had the same idea.

'It didn't seem fair that Debbie should come all the way here not to see the city. So I offered to take her round' Charlie said cheerfully.

Billy and Michael reluctantly agreed and Billy hurried off to find spare gloves and hats for Michael and Debbie, to fend off the chill of the the cold London nights. Debbie and Michael were left staring at Charlie, who's bright smile suggested that he was oblivious to any awkwardness.

Within a minute, three girls had wandered up to Charlie, claiming that they were 'ready to go'.

'Forgot to say,' smiled Charlie apologetically. 'I invited them to come too.'

Michael mumbled something inaudible, seeing his perfect night with Billy rapidly fading into the distance. The first girl, a tall, slim, ringlet-haired blonde, flung her arm around Charlie.

'Hiya!' she squealed, with a grin as bright as a 1000 watt bulb. 'I'm Violet. Charlie's sister'

Michael frowned as he heard something like a sigh of relief from Debbie, but couldn't give it much thought because Violet was already introducing the second girl.

'This is Sara,' said Violet squeezing the other girls hand.

Sara was incredibly skinny, more so than Debbie even, and had a pale, gaunt face. Her mousey brown hair flowed freely to her shoulders and she shrank into herself as she smiled shyly at Michael, as if she was uncomfortable in her own skin.

The last girl was different. She slunk into the tight knit group as if she owned the room, her thick, glossy, jet black mane fluttering down her back. Her face was creamy white and her big blue eyes pierced everything she looked at. Debbie couldn't help admiring her perfect round lips and equally circular curves. Her nose had a perfect upturn to it, unlike Debbie's, which she had always hated because of the clumsy, unnecessary bump in the middle.

Despite the fact that this girl was the shortest person Michael had ever seen, she also seemed to radiate the most power. And when she opened her perfect little mouth, narrowed her perfect little eyes and spoke with her perfect little voice, the words she said sent a dagger through Michael's heart.

'Hi. I'm Willow.' Her pink lips curved into a smile. 'I'm Billy's girlfriend.'


	6. Chapter 6

It was an hour into the worst evening of Michael's life and he was desperate to leave.

He was in the most glamourous place he'd ever been, with the person he'd been dying to see for four years and yet he would rather be anywhere else. He glanced over at Debbie, who looked equally miserable. Coming to see Billy had been a terrible idea after all. After the beautiful kisses they'd shared in the dance studio, Michael had allowed himself to dream of what could be. But now he realised it had been futile. He was only kidding himself.

The group were in a smokey West End bar. The walls and floor were made of shiny black marble, flecked with silver. Bright spotlights darted round the room and everyone sat on bar stools or in booths with seats made out of zebra skin. The place was crowded with students from nearby colleges and universities, smart couples that had come straight from musicals and plays, and drunk young socialites fresh from the closest nightclub. No one, including the handsome bouncer at the door, had paid much attention to the group of teenagers sat in the booth farthest from the door.

Willow was draped over an uncomfortable-looking Billy, ignoring the flirtatious glances she was given from every man that passed her. Debbie was wedged awkwardly between Charlie and his sister Violet, trying hard to make conversation and simultaneously ignore Billy. Michael sat next to a silent Sara, who was constantly looking at him, drawing breath as if about to speak and then shutting her mouth again.

A good-looking young boy, about 17 or 18 years old approached the table, grinning at Willow. Willow turned away and ran her fingers through Billy's thick mane of hair. The boy's smile dimmed, but he turned to Violet and said,

'Do you want a drink?'

Charlie stiffened, and Debbie couldn't help smiling at his sweet, overprotective-brother attitude.

'Sure' said Violet, flashing her luminous smile. Charlie opened his mouth to protest, but Violet just winked at him and left with the boy.

'So,' purred Willow. 'How long are you two planning to stay?'

'Not long' blurted out Michael. Billy looked up, his expression unreadable. It was sort of a cross between hurt and apologetic. Michael could have bitten his tongue off.

'I mean, we wanna stay for a while, but I dunno when we're expected home and stuff, so...' Michael trailed off. Willow was still looking at him, waiting for him to finish, but they way she had snuggled up to Billy and pulled his arm over her, rendered him Michael unable to speak. Billy drew back his arm and hastily sipped at his drink.

Debbie could feel her eyes filling with tears. _What is wrong with me? Any one of my mates would kill for a night out in London. And here I am, about to start blubbing!_ She swallowed the tears down and forced herself to look up at Charlie.

'How long have you been at the school then?' She said. Charlie jumped, surprised at her question, but mouth settled into a smile.

'Just over 5 years. I've always loved dancing though.'

'And you never got teased or anything?'

'Not really. Though I guess I didn't tell my old mates about it enough for them to tease me.'

'And your parents were okay with it?'

'Course.'

'They didn't think you was gay?'

Charlie looked confused. 'No. I mean, I understand why they would, a lot of the boys at the school are. But I told them I wasn't and they believed me. I guess it helped that Violet understood the appeal of ballet, and she could help explain it to them'

Debbie glanced over at Billy, who was gradually turning bright pink as Willow whispered into his ear. She turned back to Charlie, but his attention wasn't on her anymore. He was staring at something behind her. Debbie turned to see what it was. It was Violet, her blonde curls flying around her head as she danced with the boy who'd bought her a drink. She looked so happy that Debbie almost felt tearful again. _I've never looked that happy_, she thought. She looked at Charlie hands, which were clenching into fists as he watched the boy wrap his arms around his sister's waist. He looked furious. Debbie could feel herself smiling. She placed one small, slender hand on his wrist. Charlie jumped again and stared at her. His face seemed to change. Suddenly, he leant over and whispered in her ear,

'Go in there,' he nodded to a door across the room. 'I'll be there in 10 minutes'.

Debbie got up and walked through the door, heart pounding. _Maybe this evening won't be such a disaster after all._

__'Where's she going?' said Billy, leaning forward, away from Willow.

'Bathroom' shrugged Charlie.

'Looks like Violet's having fun' smirked Willow, gesturing to the dance floor.

'I guess'

'You're not going all protective big brother on her again are you, Charlie? You're 10 minutes older than she is'

'So?'

Willow rolled her eyes and leant back in the chair.

'How are you, Sara? Haven't seen you in a while' said Billy, desperately.

'Fine' Sara murmured. It was the first time Michael had heard her speak.

Silence, for another few minutes.

'Well, this is an eventful evening if I ever saw one' snickered Willow. Billy wanted to sink into the floor. 'Do you want to dance, Billy?'

'I'm fine, thanks'

'What's wrong? I thought that's what they all you. At least, that's what Devi calls you, isn't it? Dancing boy?'

'It's Debbie'

'What?'

'You said Devi. Her name's Debbie'

Willow gave a snort, then stood up. 'Well _I'm _going to have fun, even if you're not. Coming Charlie?'

'Nah' Charlie shook his head, glancing over at the door into which Debbie had disappeared.

Willow shook her head and walked away.

* * *

Debbie lean against a pink, fur wall, in a long corridor. It was lit only only by candles and it smelled like sweat and roses. The corridor was lined with red velvet curtains, most of them drawn, and behind the curtains came the sounds of lots of couples... having fun.

Debbie felt her cheeks get hot. She was a virgin and she'd only met Charlie a few hours ago. What on Earth did he expect from her?

The door she'd come through burst open. Debbie spun towards it, expecting to see Charlie. Instead, there, in all her beauty, stood Willow.

Willow strode up to Debbie, her mesmerising eyes on fire.

'Stay away from Billy. I don't who you are, or what you want with him, but you aren't going to get it. Billy deserves the best and you...' Willow looked Debbie up and down. 'Well, you will never be the best.'

Willow started to leave, but Debbie spoke up,

'Why do you need to tell me that?'

Willow stopped. 'What did you say?'

'I mean, if I'll never be good enough for Billy, then why even bother telling me? There's no need to. I'll just never get him, if I'm not good enough. You don't have to tell me.'

'You're a freak' said Willow, rolling her eyes and walking away.

'The only reason you're trying to intimidate me is because you feel threatened' Debbie carried on, even though her knees felt like they were about to melt.

Willow whirled round. 'Threatened? By _you_?' she cackled. 'Don't kid yourself'

If you didn't think I was capable of stealing Billy away from you, you wouldn't try and force me not to'

Willow face turned to stone and she spat at Debbie's feet. Then she left without another word.


End file.
